So This Is Love
by Pearlness4700
Summary: … Or something vaguely, obscurely, and ambiguously like the start of it. After all, he's the son of the tyrant King and she's the daughter of the leader of the Rebellion—they don't always see the world as it is, but as, perhaps, it might be. Oneshot. AU.


**Just trying to practice my good writing before I post anything worth reading on my actual story. It's been a while and my writer's block just might be clearing so I'm making sure. Thanks for checking this out and I hope you like it. This is kind of more like a prologue for a future idea I might pursue so, let me know what you think. Review if you feel like it.**

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The nescience of some people can often times be utterly unbelievable, but there are certain moments where the human instincts prove their amazing capabilities and caliber. The woods were always a sort of peaceful safe haven, so when the birds were silent and the trees weren't opting to sway with an absent breeze, Ella knew that something was unequivocally wrong. The noise that was calming and ever present was simply gone and though she was only eleven, she was smart enough to know that the natural order of things was never mute for no good reason. They were either in mourning, or they were warning her of something. Ella couldn't recall anything of public sadness to mind, so she muffled her sniffling and was cautious of every step she took.

Where were all the birds? she wondered. Surely, even if they were not singing their pure little hearts out, they would have to be around here somewhere. Nothing seemed off, save the silence, but, that was usually the way it started. There was definitely something funny going on, and Ella quickly went over everything Madame had told her. She tried her very best to listen attentively to what her surroundings were telling her, but she had never been specified on what she was to do if there was nothing to listen to in the first place. The little girl chastised herself with a sharp tongue. She could hear Madame's voice now, soft like the fur of a well-groomed cat but sheathing something secretive, something dangerous, the hidden claws that could very easily scratch someone's eye out, _There is never complete silence. There is always a way to find an escape; you must be wise enough to find it._

Ella could hear a few leaves on the forest floor scuffling with the slightest of wafts that didn't even move a single blonde lock on her head. It was chilly out and Ella cursed herself for not thinking ahead and bringing a cloak, but she had a sinking feeling that her frigid composure was the least of her worries. She really needed to listen, that's all. Perhaps she was just being childish and immature, making haste over nothing. Madame always said that immaturity was the worst possible trait, but then again, she also said that instinct was what kept people alive and to never assume or underestimate anything. She simply needed to _listen_ and _feel_ and…

She couldn't feel her feet. Ella wore her tattered blue slippers with the little bows on the very tip, and no matter how fond she was of them, they did nothing to fight off Jack Frost nipping at her toes. Besides, her floral print dress wasn't exactly winter attire. Girls like her shouldn't have to endure the seasonal cold and should remain indifferent to any sort of change. The very small rebellious element of Ella's nature believed that the outside world wasn't what they said it was, and if she could only prove it to them, then… Well, someday they'd see. She'd be the good little girl they always expected and learn and train as much as they desired, but these woods were good, and nothing they could say to her would ever convince her otherwise. They held her golden childhood, the one with father on the blanket and mother humming a nursery lullaby and clouds constructing shapes for Ella to identify. The forest was the world that Ella wished she lived in, and she visited as little as she could. Now, it may not make sense to anyone else, but Ella had long since learned to associate 'good' and 'happy' with 'a rare treat'. A valuable lesson Madame had taught Ella within the first few weeks was that there were traits about a lady that were rare. True emotion such as anger, sadness, happiness- those should be kept away and buried in a box, scarcely to be taken out or, better yet, never at all. The weight of a smile or the impact of a glare lost its outcome if it was used too often, and if this was true, then the same could be said of something that made you happy. Too much of a good thing spoils the meaning. In fact, too much of _anything_ is never a good sign. If Ella was always happy, she would be twice as sad when something devastating occurred- for something devastating _always_ occurred- and she would cease to realize what true happiness was if she experienced it everyday. The joy was thricefold if it was kept few and far between, and the disappointment lost its weight in toll when that was all she knew.

Ella still liked to remember her late mother, even if her father despised so much as the mention of her name. She still liked to look up at the clouds in the afternoon and the stars in the night, but dreaming was for the young and childish. Ella was told that she lived in a world filled with cruel and horrible creatures, and that when people got right down to it, she was unfortunate enough to be living right smack dab in the middle of a war. Being eleven, she was young enough to be of ignorance to what that truly meant and what it was all about, but old enough to be mistaken that she could do a thing about it. She had been in training ever since her father had remarried and Madame always said that though she was a little soft, she was coming along nicely. Ella didn't exactly understand what 'soft' meant, but she knew that it was frowned upon by Madame and anything she frowned upon she was upset with and Ella did not wish to upset her. Kindness and courage was what she promised her mother; loyalty and duty was what she pledged to her stepmother. She was still of the age where she believed that she could hold onto both of her given words in the world she lived in. She had not yet been exposed to what really went on to require war, but doubt it not, she would learn.

The bitter cold stung at her cheeks, and it didn't help that the water falling in slow rivulets felt like they were turning to crystal on her fair skin. Ella blew out a warm breath of air, watching as it vaporized into a fan of fog. She knew she shouldn't have come, that it was a bad idea. She was a target, Madame was right. Clear as day, and it'd be so very easy for someone to jump out in the open and steal her away. Ella was not as frightened as she felt she should be. Perhaps because it was day time, and, to a child, nothing bad ever happened in the sunlight. It was the dark when all the scary monsters came out to feast on young minors such as herself. Ones who were too impotent to help themselves and could do no more than to throw themselves to their knees and beg for the mercy that would not come from any sort of creature of the night. Ella no longer wanted to be that helpless child who cried for her father for rescue. She wanted to be strong, fearless, and courageous. Of course, how was she to know that in less than a few years and yet a whole nother lifetime later, she would find herself not the scared and defenseless child nor the brave fighter, in fact, not anything near either of the two. Because, you see, it takes quite a bit of time to raise a monster, and often times, they don't realize what they are until they know nothing else.

 _Snap!_

Ella's whole being became erect with alert at the sound of something- no, some _one_ \- stepping on a twig and cracking it in half, sending thunderous echoes throughout the wood. She tried to steady her breathing to no avail as she waited, every instinct screaming at her to flee. _Now_ she was frightened. However much she loved her mother, she was not prepared to see her again so soon, no, not today. Ella had a great deal left to do with her life, thank you very much. She counted three seconds, six flighty beats of her heart, and one whole eternity before a steady rhythm sent another wave of fear crashing into her mind because _that was the sound of someone running!_

She finally allowed herself to move, adrenaline coursing through her young veins as she shot off into the forest. She desperately hoped that her advantage of having the home field would gain her safety, as she knew the deer paths as well as she knew the halls of her own home, but she couldn't ponder over it for long. Everything Madame had taught her was retreating to beyond her memory's grasp and all she could do was _run._ Ella feared it was not enough. Her lungs could not remember how to cry for help and her mind was screaming incomprehensible words. Fear blinded her and Ella did not even have the faintest clue as to where her legs were taking her. The dead leaves cracked beneath her feet, sounding an awful lot like cannons with every step and she couldn't fathom how her pursuer could stand the sound. It was far too loud and did not belong in the placid scenery.

Suddenly, something heavier than Ella could stand barreled into her and she didn't even get the chance to scream as she was bowled over, landing flat on her face. She scrambled to her feet and immediately made haste to flee once more, but a cool and unnatural hand- gloved with leather, her mind perceived- snaked around her forearm and jerked her back. Ella's back collided painfully with a tree, in turn whipping her head into the same solid surface as well. She tried not to wince as her eyes spilled over with a fresh batch of tears. Ella couldn't even express her pain as her attacker's other hand wrapped itself tightly around her throat.

"Don't struggle," a voice growled out, panting for breath just the same as Ella, herself. She quickly blinked away the tears and wiped the fear off her face, just like she had been taught, to get a clear look of her assailant. She was given a start when she realized that he (for the voice was surely male) was only a few inches taller than herself. Evidently, that meant he couldn't be too much older than Ella. What was a boy doing going around attacking young girls in the woods? She had half a mind to ask him that, but- oh, that's right.

A rich, royal blue capote adorned the boy's frame, and Ella could catch just the slightest hint of tan breeches and the black shine of tall riding boots. His head was cloaked in the hood that shaded his eyes, though, even the shadows could not hide the brilliance of the boy's blue orbs, and a cloth was wrapped around his nose and mouth, hiding his facial features. There was a stern set to his face- what little she could see of it- and his gaze was so viciously stern. Ella could not find even the faintest of light in it; it was so cold and devoid of any happiness. A sort of despair washed over Ella, and though she could not name it, she knew instantly that it was directed towards the boy.

"W-what do you want?" she choked out firmly, attempting to sound brave and probably failing.

"What are _you_ doing in the King's woods?" he demanded, loosening his grip around her neck slightly. The boy's voice was less gravelly this time, more young in tone. He still looked and sounded like a royal Guard in a little boy's body, demanding yet dangerously calm, but more… age appropriate. She noted that he had a distinct accent that her Papa's clients always spoke with, the ones with the velvet clothing and the bags filled to the brim with what her father told her made the world go round. She found it hard to comprehend how the world could run on something that could be bagged in a pouch as small as her fist but, then again, there was plenty she had yet to understand.

"I-I'm not trespassing," Ella exclaimed, torn between praising herself for her choice of diction and chastising herself for stuttering once more.

"These are the King's woods," the boy repeated, pressing into her with his eyes alone. They really were a bright blue, so much more interesting than her own brown, and she had a feeling that the color would be haunting her for quite some time to come. (He was just a boy, there was no possible way he could be an assassin as well… Right?)

"Well what are _you_ doing here as well, then?" she shot back at him, and she could see a flash of doubt cross the boy's mind and she beamed inwardly in triumph. "Now would you be so kind as to let me go?"

The hesitation vanished in an instant and his blue orbs settled back into a hard fisheye. "No," he said harshly.

Ella huffed. "I won't run, I don't even think I can. Just let me see if my head is bleeding, alright?"

She wasn't sure what annoyed her more, the fact that he didn't seem to care whether her head was leaking blood or not, he just didn't believe she could outsmart him and get away, or the look of distaste he flashed at her when she crumpled to the floor as her back was removed from the coarse bark and began to sting all over again. Ella sucked in a breath and reached behind her head gingerly with her hand. Her head shivered at the cold touch but when she brought her hand back it wasn't red. That was a relief, Madame would kill her if she came home with an injury.

"So... Are you bleeding?"

Ella sent a glare at the boy dripping with indifference. "And _now_ you should care," she conveyed haughtily.

"I'm sorry," he looked down, his eyes frowning, and this surprised her.

"What are you sorry for? Isn't this what you're supposed to be doing?" Ella questioned. She didn't really believe him to be an assassin but, one never could tell.

At this, the boy looked confused. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm not actually supposed to be out here, either."

She blinked. So… he didn't wish her harm? Alright then, if he wasn't the antagonist of the moment, Ella could work with that. She arose to her feet and brushed her dress free of the debris of rotten leaves and dirt.

"That's alright, I forgive you," she smiled. If he wasn't going to be rude, the least she could do was show a little kindness. The more she looked at him, he didn't really seem all that dangerous. Ella was just glad to be safe in her own skin once more.

"Really?" his eyebrows raised quizzically. "Just like that?"

She shrugged in response. "You didn't mean any harm, I'm sure you were just alarmed. Goodness knows you gave me a fright. Besides, grudges never made good friends."

"Friends?" he asked warily, eying her.

"Sure, why not? I don't have any- human friends, that is. What's your name?" Ella asked politely. It was infamous knowledge to always give your own name last. Names held power, and you should never be the first to hand it over. Unfortunately, it seemed the boy was aware of this, as well.

"I'm not supposed to let anyone know who I am," he admitted, gently rubbing his hands together. _He who wears gloves has something to hide,_ Ella recalled a quote from an unknown source.

"Alright," she said, moving on. "But, I have to call you something other than 'boy'. And if you won't tell me _your_ name, _I'm_ not telling you mine."

"Fair enough. Call me Henri."

Ella hesitated for a moment. She knew better than to give a stranger her true name. Her mouth twisted in thought before she eventually replied, "Cendrillon." She offered her cold hand out to the boy- now dubbed Henri- and he shook it, sealing their new relationship.

Magic works in odd ways. It isn't always evident, but if one looks closely enough, it is most certainly and undeniably there. Such as in this moment, here. A friendship had been formed just moments after Ella had been frightened near out of her skin from being chased by none other than the boy himself. Once enemies, and because Ella forgave him without a second thought, the two were free to become friends simply by agreeing to it. They hadn't the faintest idea of who they were, they did not know what the other was doing in the woods, nor where they came from, nor even their real names. He did not know that she was the daughter of the leader of the Rebellion, and therefore his arch enemy; she did not know that he was the son of the tyrant King, and therefore the heir to be hated. If they had known, it is not entirely certain how things would have ended otherwise, but for now, this is how the story goes: both children- friends- ignorant to the familial ties that should have been reason enough for them to hate each other with a passion. With their innocence, children are temporarily gifted the uncanny ability to see the world not always as it is, but as perhaps it might be.

(Oh, how youth is wasted on the young.)

"So, what are you doing out in the woods? And why do you look like you're crying?" Henri questioned once he had recoiled his hand back to his side. He stood with a flawless grace and perfect righteousness that Ella could only dream of. An adult in a boy's body, she decided. So mature, much more so than she. Ella subconsciously rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin up.

"I didn't want to be home, that's all," she answered on the defensive, discreetly wiping away the watery tracks running down her cheeks. She might have befriended the boy but there was no way she would tell him the reason behind her tears so easily. "And what of you? What brings you here?"

"I'm running away," he said simply, turning on his heel and striding away.

This intrigued Ella and she bounded after him. "Running away? Why's that?"

"I don't want to be who my father wants me to be. It's always hours spent indoors and lessons after lessons and I should be grateful and learning everything he wants but I don't-"

"You don't want to please your parents? Well, why ever not? Are they bad?"

Henri paused, his eyebrows knit together. He turned to give a hard stare at Ella. It was weird, speaking with her new friend when she couldn't really see his face. "My father is a great man, everyone says so."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just wondering, that's all. And what of your mother?" Ella folded her arms in some sort of defense against the cold. For her company's sake, she forced her jaw to relax so her teeth wouldn't start chattering.

His eyes softened as he looked down at his feet, "My mother is dead." Then, he darted them back to Ella and declared, "But I don't want your pity or your apologies."

"You can't say something like that and expect someone not to feel sorry for what you've been through," she huffed, but the memory of her own mother rendered the bitterness in her tone nothing but a russe. "My mom's gone, too. She died a couple of years ago."

"Well I suppose we have something in common, then." Ella could detect amusement in Henri's voice, which was strange. Even if she could see his facial features, she had a hard time imagining someone like him ever smiling. Henri was a strange sort of boy, she determined. Dark and seemingly brooding one minute, but… less dark and seemingly brooding the next. He was just so set on being serious.

She figured it wouldn't hurt to try and persuade him otherwise, though. Ella was struck with a brilliant idea and scurried off through the trees. "Come on!"

"Wait, where are you going?" he called out to her as she raced off.

"Come find out!"

She heard another set of quick footsteps join her in the silence. It was still a bit haunting, but her footfall no longer sounded like a clap of thunder. As she sprinted along, Henri hot on her heels, she hollered joyously, "Come out! It's okay, he's my friend!"

Sure enough, a few distant chirps were suddenly audible, as well as the constant repetition of an active woodpecker somewhere. Ella simply loved the animals of the forest. So long as she left them be, they would coexist with her. Sometimes, she even got the joy of interacting with a few of them. The animals were so acclimated with her that even as she raced through the woods, they began to emerge from their quiet hiding and resume their busy little activities for the day.

"Where are we going?" Henri asked Ella a few minutes later.

"It's just a little farther," she promised. Soon after, the children reached a nice little clearing, flat with the early spring grass and surrounded by pine trees. Somewhere between racing through the forest and then, Henri's hood had fallen off, revealing a head of dark, neatly cropped hair. "She should be around here somewhere," Ella puffed, her breath fanning out in the crisp air.

"She? What are we looking for?"

"Have you ever met a deer?"

"Well, the Guards hunt them. I don't think I've ever been out around here, though."

"Wait, you mean you go with the Guards when they hunt?" Ella's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. If he went with the Guards on their hunts, especially when he couldn't be but a couple years older than herself… Who was he?

"Of course," he responded proudly, oblivious to Ella's discomfort.

"You simply mustn't allow them to hunt here!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?"

"A deer has always lived around here," she informed him, her eyes wide.

"So? We hunt them all the time," Henri shrugged.

" _So,_ she deserves the right to live just the same as you and I, no matter that she is an animal or is seemingly worthless," Ella snapped defensively.

Once again, Henri seemed in a rare mood of amusement. "And this deer, she is an acquaintance of yours?"

"A friend," she told him firmly, "and if all you're interested in deer is hunting them, I won't allow you to meet her."

"Fine, I won't let them hunt here," he concedes, "I don't even think we come out here, anyways."

"You have to promise! Please don't let them hurt her," she pleaded. She was rather fond of this doe; she had been her friend for a very long time and she would never forgive Henri if he let anything happen to her when he could do something to help prevent it.

"I won't, I promise."

Deeming this satisfactory, she proceeded to enter the middle of the clearing, scanning the area for a certain landmark. Once she found the oddly shaped rock residing by the edge next to a fine-looking pine tree, Ella's lips curled up in a joyous smile and she skipped through the grass. She could feel Henri's eyes on her as she merrily made her way across the clearing, but she ignored him all the same, as well as the cold stinging her wet cheeks. No matter what happened, she simply refused to allow the serious matters at home interfere with her childhood in the woods.

"Hell-o," Ella called, nearing the tree and shivering. "I've brought a friend to meet you."

"I think it's absurd that you have a deer for a pet," Henri announced as he stepped into her peripheral vision.

"What does 'absurd' mean?"

"Um, sort of like mad, I think."

"Ah." Ella stashed it away in her rapidly growing collection of advanced vocabulary, then focused on what Henri had actually said. "And she's not my pet, she's my friend."

At that moment, a rustle from underneath the tree caught the attention of the both children. One immediately reached for something at his side beneath his cloak and the other's deep brown eyes sparkled in recognition. "Please come out!" Ella called, stepping forward. "It's alright, I promise."

From the branches, a beautiful doe with large, chocolate eyes filled with innocence in its purest form, untouched by the foreign sense of animosity, gracefully stepped into the children's sight. She was at alarm when she cast her sights upon Henri, but Ella came to greet her and she relaxed. It was obvious the deer trusted the little blonde girl, and any friend of Ella's was a friend of hers.

"Hi there," she grinned, reaching her hand out and stroking the doe's long, slender neck. Ella turned her head to motion for Henri to step forth. He hesitantly did, as he had never been this close to a deer with the light still flickering in its eyes. "Take your glove off," she stage whispered.

"Why?"

"Just do it," she commanded harshly. Henri rolled his eyes but complied all the same. Once it was off, she grabbed his hand and held it out for the doe to smell.

"It's not going to bite me, right?" he asked skeptically. Ella giggled at his slight demur.

"No, _she_ won't. She's not dangerous."

She could feel Henri tense, but she held fast and he was, alas, forced to do the same. Slowly, the doe inspected his hand, and the fur around her mouth tickled. Ella released her grip around his wrist and smiled to herself at his expression of astonishment. The beauty of nature never fails to instill wonder in even the most cold-hearted of humans, and though she did not think Henri to be cold-hearted (at least, not anymore she didn't), she truly believed this.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Ella probed. Henri nodded.

"I must admit, she is rather admirable."

The doe then turned her head away, looking behind her. Another small rustle of branches was heard before another creature came gliding out elegantly. Ella gasped.

"My goodness, your baby is gorgeous!" she exclaimed to the doe. The fawn was small, a furry brown with fading spots. She estimated him to be around three months old. She quickly fell to her knees and dipped her hand in her pocket, pulling out a pinch of corn. "Here," she offered.

The fawn cautiously approached Ella, and slowly reached his svelte neck out to nuzzle the treat from her cupped palm.

"Isn't that a sight?" Henri muttered in awe, crouching down beside Ella.

"Here," she pulled out some more corn and poured the grains into his hand. "You can feed the mother."

He was not afraid to offer the mother some of the corn, and she gratefully nibbled on it from his outstretched arm. After she finished chewing, she stepped soundlessly in front of them and gently laid down, moving to rest her head on Henri's lap. The poor boy was so startled, he froze in shock and Ella laughed once more. She absentmindedly stroked the doe's back and Henri eventually relaxed, caressing her face. The doe blinked in contentment.

Noticing his mother's amenity, the fawn clumsily dropped to the ground and bumped into Ella's leg on the way down. Her demeanor instantly lit up with mirth at the the fawn's easily gained trust and she happily focused her attention on the young deer.

"He's adorable," she told the doe.

"Does this happen every time you visit?" Henri cut into her awe over the fawn.

"I've seen her babies a few times before, but this is the first time I've seen this one," she smiled. "She doesn't always allow me to meet them, so it's always a treat when I am able."

"I see," he glanced down at the mother, and Ella could sense the new appreciation in his tone.

"So yes," she laughed, nodding her head at the doe resting on his lap, "You should feel very honored that she likes you."

"Well tell her that I like her, too."

She snorted, immediately quieting herself instantaneously after realizing how un-ladylike an action it was. "I don't speak to her; she can understand me just as well as she can you."

"You're the animal person," he argued.

"It doesn't take that much, they're rather responsive if you allow them to be. It also probably helps if you don't kill their friends," she teased, playfully nudging her elbow into what she hoped was his arm. His cloak concealed his body quite well, after all.

Henri didn't laugh back. Instead, his bright eyes crinkled into a frown as he looked back down at the doe. His ungloved hand tentatively stroked her head and her eyes fluttered closed in contentment.

"I've never given much thought to it before. Deer are deer, and we hunt them. It's what's done," he said in a forlorn voice.

"Just because it's what's done doesn't mean it's what should be done," Ella responded knowingly, offering him a delicate smile before turning back to the fawn.

She could feel Henri's icy gaze on her, but she felt oddly hot. Ella made sure to keep her eyes on the fawn, but she couldn't help the blush creeping up her neck. She didn't like inspection; it made her nervous. Madame always seemed to find something worth berating over, and attention was not favorable in her mind, anyways.

"You're rather wise for your age, you know that?" Henri noted.

"Thank you," she mumbled, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious. Her golden curls had become rather wild from her spurt through the forest, and the hiemal weather certainly wasn't helping the matter. She was sure her dress was torn in a few places and my goodness, the dirt, what would Madame say? She was a lady, and ladies do not race boys in the woods.

"Are you going to tell me why you were crying, now?" Henri probed.

"My mother and father were fighting, if you must know," she sighed.

"I thought you said your mother was dead?" She could read the confusion in his eyes.

"She is, my father remarried long ago," Ella explained. "My stepmother and I get along alright, I suppose. She has a stable enough relationship with my father, but they were so angry with each other, and they kept saying my name," Ella's face fell, a fresh batch of tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "It's all my fault. I don't mean to cause them distress, but it must be something I am doing. I only wish to make my papa happy, but I have only succeeded in quite the opposite."

Henri was silent, but Ella did not mind. She would rather he didn't comment on her tears, and she figured that he didn't have a plethora of friends wherever he came from, so he wouldn't exactly know what to do with a crying girl. He didn't strike her as one to tear up easily and he had no mother to understand comfort, so she knew better than to expect a reassuring statement and she did not receive one.

"My stepmother wants me to become something as well," Ella began once she contained her sniffling, recalling what Henri had mention earlier about his father. "Only, I'm not sure whether I want it or not. I like my training, but I don't really have a choice in the matter, you know?"

"I don't really have a choice, either," Henri admitted.

"Really?" Ella asked. "You ride with the palace Guards; surely you have some say in who you wish to become?"

"It's not so simple, I'm afraid. My father… He is a great man. I know this because everyone tells me so," this, he had already told her, but this time his voice sounded deeply troubled rather than viciously defensive. "But I know he is not. There- I said it. My father is not a great man. Not at all. Still, he is my father. I do not wish to disappoint him, but I cannot allow myself to become what he wishes of me."

"So you're running away?"

"Yes, I guess so. Would you care to join me?" he asked jokingly, but Ella could hear the honest question veiled behind his humor.

"As much as I'd love to discover my own self, I have a duty to my parents, to my future, and here I must stay," her mouth twisted, for as the words were spoken, she realized how true they were. "And I think you should, too."

Henri scoffed. "I would much rather live a life of freedom and choice."

"Those are some big words for a little boy such as yourself," Ella mentioned warily. "Maybe it would be for the best to stay. Even if you do not want to follow your path, at the very least, you can try and make it better for other people. My mother always told me that selflessness was the greatest act of kindness, for where there is kindness, there is goodness, and where there is goodness, there is magic."

"Selflessness and magic, huh? I never thought of it that way," her companion said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Ella confirmed. "We must simply have courage and be kind, for if we don't, what of our humanity will we have left?"

"Your mother proposes a valid point. I suppose it would be rather selfish of me to leave the kingdom when there are so many things I could do to make it a better world for everyone."

"Wait, 'leave the kingdom'?" she whispered, staring intently at him. This boy came from the palace, was allowed to hunt with the Royal Guards, had training in pursuit and physical combat- what kind of boy was he?

They were both cut off when the delicate peace of the forest was shattered with the distant baying of hounds. Both children shot to their feet, startling the poor creatures resting against them. The fawn scrambled to his graceless feet and the doe swiftly rose as well, her tail erect in alarm.

"Oh no," Henri breathed, his voice filled with dread. "They've found me…"

"Found you? Who's found you?" Ella demanded frantically. She quickly began to panic; what were hunters doing out in these woods? Then, she heard it: the clear intonations of a horn. "Those- those are Guards," she choked out, her breath swiped away from her lungs and her face paling at the thought.

"I-I can explain-"

"Henri," she turned towards him, her voice weak. This was the first time she had ever spoken his name aloud, and the taste was foreign to her tongue. "... Who are you?"

He sighed in bitter defeat. "Scratch that, there's no time to explain. We've got to go- now."

"We can't outrun Guards, they have horses!" she cried, throwing her hands up.

"Then _you_ need to leave," he tried to push her away, but she shook her head.

"Tracking dogs, remember?"

Henri swore beneath his breath, and it was strange to hear such vulgar tongue leave such a young mouth. The dogs and the horns were rapidly growing closer, and their spirits dropped as they neared.

Ella ran to the side of her deer friend, gazing into her eyes sadly. "Please," she whispered, "it's very important that you run far away, as fast as you can. I'm so sorry for this."

She twisted her mouth in a thin line before hardening her gaze. Her hands crashed together in one loud boom of thunder and the fawn immediately bolted, fleeing as far as his little legs would take him. The doe also spooked, darting away towards the hairline of the thick trees.

"Run!" Ella whisper-yelled. "Quickly, my friend, or they'll catch you!"

The doe stared back at Ella and Henri for a moment with sad eyes.

"Go!" Henri pleaded, and the doe turned tail, escaping into safety.

But it was not meant to be. Before their very eyes, a perfectly directed arrow shot from seemingly nowhere, piercing the beautiful doe and wounding her awfully as a flower of a horribly and hideously red hue bloomed from her shoulder. Ella screamed in horror and Henri shouted something indistinguishable in fury.

"No!"

She wasn't entirely sure who it was that screeched it. Perhaps it was her, or maybe it was Henri, she didn't know. All she was aware of was her body surging forward to run to her friend- her beautiful, trusting, innocent friend- but she was unable to move further as soon, the clearing was filled with far too many aliens. Horses whinnied madly from every which way and the dogs' snarls were deafening.

A second arrow flew from the trees, but this was not the same. It was not tipped in silver and sharpened to a point of deadly perfection and accuracy; it was carved by hand with feathers decorating the fletching, the tip made of a stone that punctured its target just as well. Ella recognized that arrow, she realized with a start, as it met its target. One of the horses reared as its rider howled in pain before falling silent, collapsing to the earth below.

Dear sweet gods above, she had just witnessed murder! Ella could not scavenge the strength to so much as make a sound; she was wholly frozen. Everything was suddenly far too loud and she felt overwhelmingly faint.

"Cendrillon!" she heard someone shout in concern as the edges of her vision became to fade, her knees going weak. She never hit the ground, though. Large, cool hands gripped her forearms tightly, forcing her to stay on her feet before jerking her hands behind her back, moving to grasp her wrists. The pressure was so intense she cried out.

"Let her go!" the voice she now recognized as Henri's commanded before he was silenced as well. Ella screamed at her mind to come to attention once again and she forced herself to focus on her surroundings.

The occasional steed's impatient hoof would strike the earth, but the majority of the equine soldiers stood behind her, as far as she could tell. The dogs were now silent and she could not pinpoint their location in the clearing. However, she was too frightened to make a sound. Lucky she didn't, though; the Guard holding her hostage didn't seem like the type to tolerate noise from his prisoners, no matter their age or gender.

"Return the boy this instant!" the Guard holding her called out to the empty woods in a booming, authoritative voice.

"Give us the girl," came the response from the trees.

The Guard's grip tightened around Ella's wrists. "Not likely," he growled. "I am very familiar with the likes of you. You're not getting this one until you hand over the boy!"

A haunting silence filled the air for a moment. Ella held her breath, but a few seconds later, a tall figure cloaked in black emerged from the shadows of the trees, moving almost painstakingly slow. A golden mask shielded the entirety of the figure's face, but the appearance wasn't what shocked Ella- after all, she had already seen the golden mask before- oh no, what shocked her was the glimmer of silver flashing in the sunlight from their palm, placed delicately on the exposed neck of none other than Henri. Ella gasped but the noise was covered by at least fifteen swords being drawn from their sheaths.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," the figure spoke almost casually. A warning that was not to be taken seriously.

"You commit treason," the Guard spat. "Show yourself, _Rebel!_ "

"If you insist."

All around the clearing, more black figures with golden masks stepped out of the darkness, lethal arrows notched to longbows in every single pair of hands, all locked onto the small crowd of Royal Guards. There were too many to count, but by far they outnumbered the Guards. The one holding Ella clamped his gloved hand down harder and she winced. However, he was unsettled, and that was a good thing… But Henri…

"You are surrounded," the figure annunciated clearly, "give us the girl and in return, you'll receive the boy. Every mark on her he shall receive thricefold."

The Guard audibly growled, and Ella feared for her life the second time that day. This was not a man she wanted to mess with, and she could not help the panic that flooded through her eyes and veins, causing her body to tremble. She tried to convince herself that she was merely cold, but courage in the face of fear is often quite hard to muster, and so, too, is deception.

"We know well who he is, this one," the Rebel added coldly.

"Then the girl is worth something, as well."

"We Rebels protect all, the innocent included. Any one of us are worth the hide of a noble youth."

 _Noble?_ Ella thought with alarm, but the strain on her wrists chased the thought from her mind, allowing the space to be filled with pain and pain alone.

"A trade then," the Guard narrowed his cold eyes, Ella could tell from the corner of hers. "A _noble youth_ for an _innocent_ peasant."

In response, the figure strode forward, pushing Henri along with them. His face was that of a boy attempting to be brave, but his eyes reflected Ella's; he was just as frightened as she was. Only, she figured Henri had an inkling as to what was happening in the first place in stark contrast to Ella, who was left to fear the unknown. The Guard escorted her roughly to the middle of the clearing, leaving a ten foot No Man's Land in between as they halted seemingly on agreeable terms.

In an orderly fashion, Ella's wrists were released, and the knife retracted from Henri's neck. Ella was shoved none too gently away from the Guard, as if she were mere vermin caught in an unfortunate situation, and Henri was treated no better. They both cautiously shuffled towards the other side, each stopping in the middle and staring at each other with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Henri finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not your fault," she whispered back. Noble. The word kept ringing in her mind, and she was struck with how little she knew of this boy whom had become her friend on such a short notice.

"The Guards have found me, and so have the Rebels. You'll have to go with them, but I'll bet they'll merely take you back to your village. They won't hurt you, I don't think."

All the things Madame had drilled into her mind washed through her memory and she held her tongue. Henri believed her to live in a nearby village; to be frightened of the masked black figures. She had to let him.

She nodded once. There was no final parting, no attempt to create means of contacting one another again. They both were well aware that this would be the last time either of them would ever see each other again, but alas, this was the world they lived in; no one was safe, and you could never truly trust another being. Everywhere you turned, there were foes dressed as friends lying in wait to prey upon your naivety, and the only way to survive was to rid yourself of the horrid ignorance before anyone else could take it. This, they both were well accustomed to, and they had mastered this teaching long before encountering each other. Ella and Henri were fortunate enough to be granted 'hello'- it would be pushing their luck to hope for 'goodbye'.

As she stepped into the shadows to be greeted by the Rebels, she desperately wanted to turn her head, just to glance once more at Henri's retreating form, but she had to time it perfectly, otherwise they would see. However, when she finally took advantage of a chance, her eyes did not find Henri; instead, they registered the Guard's beady eyes staring hungrily at the place where her doe had left a trail of blood.

She shivered, but before she had a chance to pray for her friend, another hand wrapped itself around her wrist and tugged- hard. Making sure the Guards were out of earshot, Madame's voice cut through the air like a freshly sharpened dagger, "Come, Ella, we're going _home._ "

The woods had been her sanctuary, but now that it had been penetrated by those who certainly did not belong there, it seemed as if the intruders were taking everything with them: her dreams, her contentment, her protection, but just because someone else had evidently decided that Ella's heart no longer belonged to the forest, that did not cease to mean that the forest claimed Ella right back. She was young and trusting, and that, my dear friends, would be her undoing- her fatal flaw. As one suit of armor came forth to protect her, her mind immediately neglected the one that was her only true shield; she did not think to be afraid of the hands that had raised her, and perhaps that is why she did not listen to what her woodland friends were trying to warn her of, for as she departed hand in hand with the leader of the Rebellion itself, the silence of the forest was deafening.

* * *

 **The ending was a little mediocre but, well, all is said and done. Cendrillon is the French translation of Cinderella and in that tale, the Prince's name is Henry, in case anyone was wondering why those specific names. Also, I imagine Mordred-Asa Butterfield as young Kit/Henri but maybe that's just me. If you enjoyed this AU (which of course I hope you did), stay tuned; in a very long while I have plans to continue this. I would note and emphasize the 'very long while', though...**


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